"If you talk like that—" began O'Mally.
"Sh!" Smith elbowed him sharply in the small ribs.
"It's all right, Smith. No one can force me into a scrape of this sort; but when she speaks like that! Signorina, or I should say, Miss Grosvenor, you have the most beautiful voice in the world. Some day, and we are all out of jail, I expect to hear you in the balcony scene with some famous tenore robusto as Romeo. You will be getting three thousand a week. You needn't bother about the telegram; but I'll have to have a new suit," touching the frayed cuffs of his coat. "Now, if we go to jail, how'll we get out?"
"Trust me!" La Signorina had recovered her gaiety.
"Well," said Smith, "suppose we go and break the news to Worth?"
Hillard refused to canter, so the two walked their horses all the way into Florence. Merrihew spoke but seldom and Hillard not at all. By now the sun had gone down, and deep purple clouds swarmed across the blue face of heaven, forecasting a storm.... It was not dishonorable for him to love this woman, but it was not honorable for her to listen. Sonia Hilda Grosvenor; that solved no corner of the puzzle.
"To-morrow," said Merrihew, "I'm going to look up the jail and engage rooms ahead. It might be crowded."
Hillard raised his face and let a few drops of cooling rain patter on his cheeks. "I love her, I love her!" he murmured.